A Scientific Experiment
by tasty-kate
Summary: A night of scientific experimenting  read: finding what alcoholic beverage the Doctor likes  turns into a night of storytelling. Which turns into snogging. Which turns into removal of clothing. One shot! Mature themes!


Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, BBC does, yadda yadda

WARNING: Alcohol consumption and sexy times ahead.

A/N: To argue against anyone that says the Doctor doesn't like alcohol (or at least this one), we've only seen him spit out wine. And wine really is an acquired taste. A delicious acquired taste.

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Amy pushed open the door of the pub and breathed in deeply. A combination of yeast, wine, some fried foods, and alcohol. It had been a while. In tow was the Doctor. He surprised her when he accepted her invitation to go to a pub.

"_I don't even know what I might like. I remember liking dirty martinis before… though that was a while ago when I wore a lot more ruffles…"_

"_So it'll be like an experiment, yeah?" Amy chose to ignore the pirate comment._

_His face brightened up at the prospect of turning this trip into something remotely scientific. "Yes! An experiment."_

The redhead plopped down on the 23rd century bar stool. Some things never change and she was glad of that. Pubs should always be consistent. It was comforting.

The bar tender in his fifties strolled up to the two time travelers. "What can I get ya?" he asked, his eyes lingering on Amy for a brief moment.

"I'll have a cider," Amy stated.

"And for you?" He turned to the Doctor and seemed to notice for the first time his tweed-bow tie-floppy hair combo. His eyes lingered for a whole different reason.

"I'll stick with what I know and have a dirty martini." The Doctor beamed at the bar tender, seemingly unaware of his scrutinizing stare.

The bar tender turned around and started to work on his drinks.

Amy turned to the Doctor. "So what happens if you don't like what you've ordered?"

The Doctor's grin turned wide as a spark of mischief shone in his eyes. Amy understood what that spark was. She was suddenly thankful that she ate a decent dinner.

"Right," Amy answered, "I'll finish them off only if you promise to drink at least half of each drink."

"You look a bit scared, Pond," the Doctor leered, leaning in closer. "If you can't keep up-"

"Oi! You question my tolerance? Be prepared to be impressed. I'm proud to be a Scot."

The Doctor laughed out loud and patted her knee. It was a little too fatherly for her liking. _I'll be changing that, _Amy thought to herself. If the Doctor saw through her ulterior motives, he didn't lead on. If he did know, she was exceedingly happy that he was going along. If he didn't catch on, then hey, that worked, too. _Win-win_, Amy thought. Ever since the time on Trazadoor where things became a little too hot and heavy, Amy knew she could make this work, even if it was for just one night.

Just remembering the Tradadoor incident made Amy's heart beat quicken. The air was so warm but it was the Doctor's body pressing up against her, sucking her neck and raking his fingers through her hair that made her hot and flushed. And then the aliens came. Aliens _always_ interrupted them.

The bar tender brought Amy her cider, waking her out of her reverie.

Amy took a sip of her sweet cider and smiled a bit when she pulled the glass away from her lips. It'd been a while since she had a drink. She felt a pair of eyes on her and turned her head to see the Doctor merely observing her.

"Would you like to taste?" she asked, offering him the pint.

He wordlessly took it from her, sniffed him, scrunched up his nose, and then took a sip.

"Gah, that's awful!" he sputtered, bits of cider flying out of his mouth. He thrust the glass back into her hand, some of the liquid slopping over the edge and landing on the floor between them.

She wiped a bit of cider off her nose that he spat at her and shrugged. "I like it just fine," and to prove her point, took a deep drink from the glass. She licked her lips and looked over at her companion out from the corner of her eye. His grin matched hers.

Amy's smoldering look was interrupted when the bar tender came back with the Doctor's martini.

"Thanks, mate," the Doctor said and raised the glass to him. The bar tender had already turned his back. He shifted in his barstool and brought his attention back to Amy. "In the name of scientific experimenting" and he raised his glass to her.

"In the name of getting you pissed," Amy agreed, clinking glasses. Amy took a few more large gulps from her cider.

The Doctor had an inquisitive look on his face as if appraising the taste in his mouth, yet it mostly looked displeased. "No, no, won't do," he said, setting the glass down.

"Ah, ah, ah, you gotta finish half of that."

"And you gotta finish yours before you take on mine."

"Ever heard of two-fisting?" Amy grinned and the Doctor shook his head, mumbling something about being young and naive. She decided she was going to have entirely way too much fun and took another large gulp. She was half-way done with the pint already and was beginning to feel a bit warm.

"Have I ever told you about the time when I save an entirely new race of human beings from being guinea pigs in New New York?"

"No, I don't believe you have," Amy said and settled herself into story time with the Doctor.

"Well, it wasn't really named 'New New York', it was actually the 15th New York, so it was actually New New New New New New New-"

"I get it Doctor."

He looked over at her, slightly disappointed he couldn't go into that whole spiel. He took another drink of the martini to try and rid of half of its contents. "Right, anyhow, I had recently regenerated into a new body, and the friend I was traveling with was there for the regeneration. A bit traumatizing for her, I suspect, particularly when immediately afterwards Earth was being invaded and I needed to catch up on my beauty rest. Really, all I needed was a stiff cuppa and only my friend's mother seemed to really grasp that."

He continued to retell Amy the story and many others as they both worked on their drinks. At the exact half-way mark of the Doctor's dirty martini, he slid it over to Amy who had finished her cider about ten minutes before.

The bartender came up to the pair in the middle of the Doctor's story about how his sixth reincarnation (the one with the colourful suit and fluffy hair… that sounded like most of them. Amy was beginning to mix all of them up) met up with his second reincarnation (the first one to wear a bowtie—that one was easy to remember).

"What should I have next?" he asked Amy.

She took a sip of the dirty martini and grimaced. Who drank these things, anyway? "Maybe something with a little more flavour. Try gin and tonic with a squeeze of lime." If he didn't like that one, Amy knew she could drink those.

The Doctor turned brightly back to the man behind the bar. "What she said." He whirled around once in his barstool until he looked at Amy. She knew he wasn't even close to being buzzed, but just wanted to twirl in his seat. "Where was I?"

"You said it looked like one of your friends was about to be slaughtered."

"Right!" The Doctor picked right up where he left off. Shortly after he began, the bartender came back with his drink. The Doctor paused his story again, thanked the man, and then took a tentative sip of the drink, this time without sniffing it.

"Oh, it's like drinking Christmas trees in summer time! I love it!"

Amy beamed. "Great!" She caught the attention of the bartender. "I'll have one, too."

Time flew by, as did the drinks. The Doctor tried 7 and 7 (hated it), Jameson and ginger ale (indifferent about it), vodka and cranberry (liked it alright), Long Island iced tea (loved it), and a whole slew more. Amy, working on her fifth pass-off drink (not counting the drinks she ordered), cautioned against the Doctor from drinking too much.

"No worries," a small hiccup, "Time Lord absorption of alcohol is much quicker than hummmans, meaning it takes, it takes much more for me to feeeel the effects of alcohol."

His companion giggled. "I bet you're feeling it now." She slung an arm around his shoulder, leaning into him slightly.

"Lookatyou!" he slurred. "Cheeks aaall rosy," he poked her cheek. "You told me! that you had goodidy good tolerance."

Amy couldn't help it and burst out laughing. It wasn't even particularly funny but she felt all giddy and warm. "I do, promise. But I'm… I'm… like, six drinks… seven drinks in, dearest Doctor. And now I have to use the loo. Toodaloo." Amy laughed at her pun. She took her arm off the Doctor and worked herself into an upright position on her own and then staggered off the bar stool. There was a brief moment where she thought she was going to tumble over but she regained her balance.

The Doctor's eyes followed Amy until she went around a corner then slumped forward on the bar and rested his head in his hands. His head was swimming and the room was starting to turn on its own accord. He wondered when the last time he drank like this was. "Leather jacket, definitely leather jacket," he mumbled. "Such big ears I had… all the better to hear…" he snickered.

Amy came back a bit later, all pink and swaying. She plopped down back in her barstool. "I think I'm flagging myself," she announced.

"Good idea. I think I'm flagging myself, too," the Doctor said. He lost count after eleven drinks. Good number, that. Eleven. The Doctor started to snicker again.

"What?" Amy asked. "Whaaaat?" She leaned in close to his face.

"Jus' makin' jokes in m'head. Time t' pay." He looked away from her, took out his wallet and thumbed through the paper bills until he came across the appropriate currency. After paying, he stood up, then immediately sat down again, his eyes wide. "That wasn' very good."

Amy cracked up at her unbalanced friend. "A little wobbly, are we?"

"Yeah, a little wibbly wobbly…" He caught her eye.

"Timey wimey!" they shouted in unison and laughed loudly together. Pub patrons started to look their way so they slowly made their way out the pub.

"You're not planning on drinking and driving, are you, Doctor?" Amy asked with all the humor in her voice.

"No no no no no no… I already drank. So jus' driving."

Amy laughed and nudged him with her shoulder as they exited the pub.

The sorry pair made it to the blue box around the corner from the pub. He put all his focus into coordinating his arms and fingers to find his key. Key, where did he put that damn key… Suddenly another set of hands was on him. Amy stuck her hand into his inside jacket pocket and retrieved the object. He caught her gaze and she smirked.

With the key still in her hand, Amy spun around a little too enthusiastically, staggered to the left, then realigned herself, unlocked the door and pushed the door open without ceremony and entered the TARDIS.

She turned back around to the Doctor and extended her hand with the key and dropped it.

"Whoops," and she bent down to retrieve it. The sudden change in altitude was a bit much and instead of standing right back up, she sat down and picked up the key. Smiling a bright smile, she held it up to the Doctor.

He laughed at her sitting on the ground by the coat stand. "Need help there, Pond?" He took the key, slipped it back into his pocket, and extended his hand.

She took his hand and said with warning, "Slowly."

He tried to hide his smile and gradually lifted her to a standing position. Just as she was upright again, Amy leaned forward into the Doctor, thinking he was much closer than he actually was. When she didn't feel his body at the point where she thought she should have, she stumbled in an attempt to regain her balance.

The Doctor grabbed her shoulders and they both swayed to the right. The two laughed and looked at one another. Amy's hair fell in her face. He took his hand and gently brushed the strands of orange-red hair from her face. His smile softened.

She studied his smile. _Fatherly or romantically? Fatherly or romantically?_ To test it out, Amy took her hand and cupped his face, thumb lightly caressing his cheek bone. He leaned his head into her touch and closed his eyes. _Result…_ she thought smugly.

Amy ever-so lightly pulled his face to her. He had the opportunity to ignore the gesture or go with it. His choice.

He leaned in.

_Result! Result! Result!_

Their lips touched yet he kept leaning. The pair stumbled backward until Amy's back hit the railing to the stairs. Amy giggled into the kiss and opened her mouth when she felt his tongue. It was sloppy, but shit, it was the Doctor.

He pulled away from her breathless, a glaze over his eyes. She wasn't sure if the glaze was from alcohol or lust, but figured it was the latter. She took hold of the lapels of his tweed jacket and started to kiss him while making her way backwards up the stairs. It would have been a sexy move if she wasn't already three sheets to the wind. Because of the circumstances, she tripped on the last step and went flying backwards, taking the Doctor with her.

There were yells of protest to gravity and then a loud thud as they crashed down onto the upper level of the consol.

The Doctor was sprawled out on top of Amy. Amy's eyes were as wide as saucers. That was a surprise, though it really should have not been. They looked at one another. Then the Doctor shrugged and bent down to kiss Amy again. Amy began laughing at his nonchalance until she felt his hand on her breast, thumb rolling over her nipple. Even through two layers of fabric, it felt amazing. She moaned and pressed her hips upwards against his pelvis.

Taking it as a cue, the Doctor moved his hand to underneath her shirt and began to tickle upwards. The woman underneath him squirmed at a pathetic attempt to move him quicker to his goal. Amy felt him quirk a smile in their kiss. Two can play at that game.

Amy moved one of her hands to where it was digging in his gorgeous hair to his hip. Sliding it along to the front of his trousers, she explored that area, carefully avoiding his hard cock. She had felt it before when she bucked her hips against his so she knew of its exact location. But if he couldn't find her breast, she couldn't find his cock.

The game didn't last long because of alcohol-clogged, lust-charged brains and before either of them realized it, clothes were being torn off.

Just as Amy was tugging at his bow tie, the Doctor broke away from the passionate, sloppy kiss.

"Less go somewhere…." He searched for the word, "diff'rnt."

Now flushed for a whole new reason, Amy nodded and stood up slowly after the Doctor. Her leather jacket and cowboy boots and the Doctor's tweed jacket were left forgotten on the console floor as they rushed to find a bed.

After a few twisty corridors, the pair found themselves in front of a room Amy had never noticed before. The Doctor pushed open the offending piece of wood keeping them from a comfy bed and they entered quickly, picking up right where they left off in the console room. Amy had a brief moment to register her surroundings and came to the conclusion that this was his bedroom before the man in question started to tug at her shirt.

Some very carefully placed uncoordinated movements later, they were finally skin to skin and Amy was having a hard time not being impatient.

Remembering Amy's moaning when he sucked her neck all those weeks ago, the Doctor slowly began to kiss right at the meeting point between her neck and shoulder. Amy moaned and her hips moved on their own accord, rubbing her clit against the Doctor's cock. Amy pushed her hands through his ridiculous floppy hair and tugged on it, earning a moan in return.

The Doctor pulled away and looked at Amy, his hair a mess, his cheeks flushed, a few beads of sweat on his temple. She knew this man was attractive, but this was becoming a little overwhelming.

That was when he pushed inside of her.

Amy's eyes widened and she gasped out loud, turning the gasp into a moan. Her hands moved to his back and scratched from his spine to along his ribs.

As one lump of humanoid mass, they began to move, the Doctor pushing himself up into Amy and her meeting his thrusts with her hips. Each movement earned a moan, a sigh, a grunt from them both.

The Doctor locked eyes with her. "Gorgeous" he gasped with a thrust, "impossible" another thrust "Amy" grunt "Pond. Amy. Amy. Amy!"

Amy's breaths were coming in gasps now. "Yes!" she shouted and felt the bud of energy that had been building since earlier that night suddenly snap inside of her, sending her into her orgasm.

Somewhere in the haze of her orgasm where she swore she saw stars burst behind her eyelids, she heard a shout and a string of syllables she never heard before. Her eyes flew open in complete shock and passion and saw her Doctor coming inside of her.

He collapsed on to her, unable to support himself up any longer. A small part of her brain registered that she felt much more sober. Within a frustratingly short amount of time, his breath came back while Amy still struggled to not wheeze. When she was finally able to catch her breath, she realized he was still inside her. Amy looked at his face and saw such a soft, tender smile. She was almost taken aback.

"Hello, you."

Amy gave him a genuine smile. "Hi." Her smile broadened.

"You're quite sneaky, you know that?"

"How do you mean?" Play innocent, Amy. Okay, maybe she sounded too innocent.

He laughed and pulled out of her and rolled off of his companion. She turned to face him and he put his hand on her face. He gave her a soft kiss then he pulled her into a hug. Amy wrapped her free arm around his torso and kept the other on his breast bone, feeling the double cadence of his hearts.


End file.
